


Bound With Chains And Love

by WetSammyWinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Demon Blood Addiction, Demon Dean Winchester, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 17:14:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6292975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WetSammyWinchester/pseuds/WetSammyWinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Abaddon woke up Demon Dean instead of Crowley? More domination, less howling at the moon, with both Winchesters chained to her side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bound With Chains And Love

Sam tops off his glass with the last of the whisky, wondering in his daze where Dean might have stashed more, because he is going to keep drinking until he is unconscious or dead. As dead as his brother in the next room.

As he raises the glass to his lips, Sam hears footsteps behind him in the Bunker and stumbles out of the chair. Dean stands before him in the library doorway, still beaten and scratched, but alive and the most beautiful sight Sam has ever seen.

“Dean?” It must be an alcohol induced dream, right? Because Dean’s dead body travelled with him in the back seat of the Impala across two states, covered up gently with a blanket. There is no way he is alive. And yet he is.

“Sam, it’s me.” Dean reaches for him, hugs him with steel-clad strength, and Sam sinks into the embrace gratefully, tucking his head down to where he smells the cheap motel soap he used to clean off the blood. Underneath that, he smells just like Dean.

When he pulls back up, Sam looks searchingly into his brother’s face for answers and notices a small cut on Dean’s lip that has started to bleed and drip again. Bright red against pale freckled skin. A sign of life. A good thing.

“But how?” Sam begins to say but Dean grips the sides of his face as he has done so many times and pulls his brother down to his lips. In the past, kisses between them were reverential, passionate, full of comfort. This feels feral and urgent, tasting of iron, of blood and sulphur like a match waiting to be struck. He feels a jolt course through his lips and into his gut, something familiar that he hoped never to taste again after Ruby.

Sam jerks back and touches his lips, bruised with a brother’s kiss, and looks up into the flat black of demon eyes, uncomprehending what it all means for just a second, until he sees the flash of long red hair and black leather over Dean’s shoulder.

“Hello, boys.”


End file.
